Taking Chances (The Chances and Choices Duology - Book 1 of 2 - Contemporary Romance) by Ann Omasta Page A

wouldn’t really leave me stranded out here, would he? I began to think
he might do just that when he reached the beach and continued on without so
much as a backward glance at me.

 
    I was stubborn and pissed off, but I wasn’t
stupid. I didn’t want to take my chances out here alone and Sam was quickly
moving out of earshot. I cupped my hands and yelled, “Wait!” in his direction.
He stopped, but didn’t turn. “May I use your phone to call for help?”

 
    He shook his head as if trying to talk himself
out of something, and I began to wonder if he really was going to leave me out
here. The rain had begun coming down in sheets, and I was already soaked to the
bone. Finally, he turned and walked back down the boulder path to me. The black
dog followed a couple of paces behind him.

 
    When he reached me, he just stood there looking
down at me. I reached my hand up and said simply, “phone, please.”

 
    “I don’t have my cell with me. Where are you
injured?”

 
    I raised my affected ankle to show him. It was
already swollen to twice its normal size. “Jeez, Ab ,”
was all he said before removing his parka and zipping me into it.

 
    I was basking in the familiarity of the nickname
when he wrapped his hands around my waist as if to pick me up. “Whoa! What are
you doing?” I demanded.

 
    “I’m carrying you to safety. You can’t walk on
that ankle.” At my frustrated look, he asked, “How would you propose that we
proceed?”

 
    I rather liked his idea, but I wasn’t about to
admit that.   “I was thinking you
could call someone for me when you get to a phone,” I answered.

 
    “You want to sit out here freezing in the
pouring rain, rather than go with me?” I could tell he was completely
exasperated with me. “Fine, have it your way,” he turned before continuing,
“I’ll go call my brother and have him come rescue you.”

 
    Shit! I
can’t have him call Seth, only to be told that he’s actively avoiding me. How
humiliating. “No, will you call my friend Courtney?”

 
    I had barely rattled off her number before he
muttered, “Screw this,” and hauled me up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
I had never been manhandled like this, and I smacked at him hard. I whacked the
only part of him that I could reach and was rewarded with a handful of his
firm, mouth-watering ass.

 
    “You like it dirty, huh?” he growled back at me.
“I can be a bad boy.” I was sure that he could, and I tried not to picture him
being bad, very bad with me. I couldn’t seem to stop the images from popping
into my head, and they were hot.

 
    I was on the verge of struggling for freedom
when I decided that this was probably the best-case scenario for my situation.
I’d let him carry me to a phone, then thank him and send him on his way.

 
    My body had almost relaxed when I felt him start
climbing. “Where are we going?”

 
    “To my house,” he answered, pointing up to the
amazing house on the cliff. The dark, angular house suited him perfectly.

 
    “You can’t carry me up this incline. I’m too
heavy,” I protested.

 
    His pace didn’t slow as he answered me only with
a quick sigh. Rather than fight with him, I watched the big dog loping along
behind us as we made our ascent.

 
    He wasn’t even breathing hard when we reached
the front porch. I looked at the glider and matching rocking chairs and
imagined what a fantastic place this would be to spend an afternoon reading and
watching the lake.

 
    He pushed the unlocked front door open and
carried me inside and up a set of stairs. “Um, you can set me down now.”

 
    He ignored me and continued on to a huge
bathroom. He used a foot to flick the lid closed and plopped me down on the
toilet. “I don’t really have to go right now,” I told him as he continued
ignoring me and started the tap on the biggest sunken, garden tub I had ever
seen. He went to a cabinet and retrieved a giant bottle